


Eyes Wide Open

by mother_hearted



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Mindfuck, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you're not asking the right question</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Wide Open

There's a difference between collecting scraps of paper and piecing them together like a jigsaw puzzle to learn about the crimes of a murderer (serial and _dead_ and still killing and killing _now_ ) and standing in front of him, face to face.

He's taller than he imagined, taller and bigger and just as broad as he. He doesn't know what he expected, he doesn't know why he expected anything ever since the padlocks appeared inside his room and trapped him in hell. He's afraid, no denying it no matter how well he schools his face, he's different from the monsters that lurk and roam, he used to be _human_ and despite the dark aura around him, Henry can't make himself forget. How do you get to this point, able to keep your skin and yet still sink your claws into everyone you meet.

There's a countdown going on, it's still going on now with each step he takes and Henry's back is to the wall because he lost Eileen and thought those footsteps coming up behind him so slow and detached were her. He's smiling, smiling _at_ him and he always has been whenever he ran into him. The peephole, the window, the stair case, the thin stretch of his lips so calm and unnerved and Henry's stomach turns tight more from that look than any threat of death.

"What do you want?"

Walter Sullivan shakes his head slowly, hand raised in the air and his eyes dart to the coat pocket where he knows he keeps his gun but it stays in the air, instead index finger pointed and he _tsks_.

"What... What are you doing?"

His shoulder hits the wall behind him and it's the only thing that makes him realize he was backing away at all. Walter approaches, closer and closer, looking expectant and patient and _he doesn't get it all._

"You're not asking the right question."

It's a mistake to let him get so close, now when he carries a pistol and a knife and his voice isn't right, too low, too tempered, too _much_ for his spinning mind because what right thing is there to say to the man who plans to kill him, tear him apart and carve him inside for a mother that doesn't exist anymore?

 _why_

It's quiet, a little blurb of static in his mind but it's always been there, ever since the beginning when he found it had only been his room and nothing but isloation and pain and running low on food and water and telephone dying and windows sealed shut and he'd grown so cold with loneliness,

"...why me?"

It's softer than Henry intends but he says it, says it outloud for the first time because he's been afraid of the answer that would greet him.

It's nothing like he imagines.

"You're different from everyone else."

He stares, unsure if he heard him right, he's _different_ , what does that mean and what about the apartment -- and then Walter moves closer, too close too close and his shoulders stiffen up.

"I've been watching you, all alone with mother and you were so happy, happy to be with her, happy to have her."

"W,Wait, you've been," and his breath is clipped when he's cut off by Walter's arm outstretched against the wall by his head,

"And I'm going to take her back, bathe in her warmth like I've planned."

His face is too close, his face is too close, but he's afraid, to push him away and intterupt him and _he's been watching him_ and he's still _smiling_ and,

"You're different from everyone else, Henry. You don't need people, you don't want them. All you need is mother and you're happy," and he almost sounds _fond_ and Henry feels so anxious he wants to throw up.

"Stop."

"You let her see everything, the way you flush down to your collarbone, how your eyes shine when you cry, the soft noises you make when you think no one hears you," and Henry hears his voice crack when he says,

" _What,_ " and his stomach churns the same time heat flushes in his cheeks. What. What. _I've been watching you._

" _Stop it._ "

Except he doesn't stop, he touches his face, rubs his thumb slowly under the socket of his eye and for a moment he can't breathe.

"When I'm done I'll be the only who will hear, the only one who will see, when your body is shriveled and gone I'll gather your heart and soul and lock them away with me. All mine to play with," he whispers, breath hitting his lips, "to watch you cry and bleed, to hear you scream until you can't breathe."

Henry's arms jerk up, shaking but _he tries_ except he grabs him, forces him back against the wall and his breathing is erratic, heart beating too too fast and, "You'll be mine forever, Henry."

He screams.


End file.
